Taciturn
by Kyra Marie
Summary: adj. Habitually reserved and uncommunicative; silent; reserved. There are two homes in every person's life: in school, and with the family. For Natsume Hyuuga, the choice was hard to make. A story about his silent promise.


**TACITURN**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer<strong>_: You all know Gakuen Alice isn't mine. Credits to the great genius Tachibana Higuchi. Or the quote by Frances Clark._

**Dedication**_: To all participants of May Madness 2011._

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><p>He felt her before she came.<p>

"Hey."

Natsume nodded at her before turning his attention back outside.

"I can't stay," he said briefly.

Mikan bit her lip, more to stop the words that she knew she'd give him that would probably lead to nothing but trouble. This wasn't the time, but she had been waiting for it. "I know."

Silence engulfed between them, and all was heard were their chatting friends. It was their first winter outside the Academy, months after their graduation. They had indeed gone to different ways, to different places, to random countries: Cambridge, New York, Rhode Island, Massachusetts. They were all over the world, scattered like migrates, mingling, for the first time in the longest of times, with people they have never seen for ten, eleven, twelve years straight. But even school or work can't stop them from going back.

But for Natsume's case, he was, finally, free.

"It's for a righteous cause, isn't it?"

He took his time to collect his words; Natsume has always been brief and blunt, whereas Mikan liked digging for more. In a way, though they were quite the opposites, they simply clicked. He didn't know what would happen now that he was breaking the binding line that joined them. "I still have things to do. Before I can really go out."

"Things pertaining to the neurotic obsessive use of your Alice?" she remarked bitterly. "You have to stop this. You're lucky you even graduated. You have to stop being so selfless and start thinking about yourself even for once."

"I'm not you."

"I'm not asking you to be."

This was the thing about talking with Mikan. Most people would listen and nod and say, 'Well, mate, I'll see you soon!' but no. Mikan would be defying sides even when she had her own mind made up. She knew it was coming, she'd told him that. But to her, that doesn't mean she couldn't put a stop to it.

"It's not about my Alice," he answered tersely.

Mikan finally faced him, turning her back on the dancing trees and the twinkling stars. "Then what's more important than just being here?" She didn't want to come out so inconsiderately, but she wanted to be guileless. Not too long ago, he was teasing her as they lay against the Sakura tree, and she was laughing amidst being the subject of his humor. Not too long ago, they were perfect, or, at least, the most perfect they could be.

"I have Aoi." He said, his words not betraying him but his eyes speaking thousands. People say that eyes are the windows to the soul, and Natsume, Mikan thought, is the ideal example. "I have to make sure she's safe."

"She is. They haven't killed her, and they won't."

"What makes you think that? They kill innocents, using students as their cache. You think one normal human can stop them?"

"I'm just saying—"

"You're saying that everything would be alright in the end, and it would all fall to pieces, and it'd be like rainbows and sunshine and Howalons—"

"That was not what I saying!" She shouted, and finally he looked at her in surprise. Her eyes were fierce, contrasting to the dark murky skies that seemed to be taking after them. For a quick moment, it seemed that the chatting from inside died down, and suspiciously rose up. Her voice went timid when she added, "It wasn't."

Natsume looked away. He liked seeing her get all wound up because of him, but this was not the kind he enjoyed seeing. "I doubt it isn't."

"It wasn't," she pressed.

"Alright," he finally held back; it was a pointless game they have been doing for so long. "It wasn't."

A few popped balloons later and after spotting Cassiopeia, Mikan murmured, "Was it?"

He looked at her with one brow raised. She was still staring at her favorite constellation. "You still believe in stars?"

She spared him a glance and quoted Frances Clark. "'_There wouldn't be a sky full of__stars__if we were all meant to wish on the same one_.' Hoping isn't bad for the soul. It would do some good for you every here and then."

"Hoping leads to disappointments."

"You're being awfully cynical as always."

"And you are being downright impossible, though I shouldn't have expected any less from you."

This was how they went and go. Their conversations trailed and shot to different directions. They both have things to say, never relenting to let the other have the last word.

"They also mark promises, these stars, being witnesses," she said softly, her eyes not betraying her by dancing away to his red ones. "Promises meant until infinity."

The thing about Natsume Hyuuga and Mikan Sakura is that they weren't in an official relationship to start with; they agreed on no labels, on no vows. They were just together, and they were okay with that, much to the chagrin and impatience of the audience betting for them. And though he never promised her anything beyond the present, he gave it to her anyway: infinity.

"Can I call you?" She asked, quite unsure if she should've.

Natsume gave the tiniest of smile, not one of those rare full ones he gave when he was open to show that he was pleased; it was the kind when he was content, yet had a reason to be distressing. Almost like those times he completed a mission, and he was hurt, but he knew well someone was waiting for him back in his room. "All the time." It was one of those moments.

There was no kissing. Kissing meant leaving promises, and promises meant possibilities to breaking them. Neither was up for either, but it was alright. She knew he'd come back. He knew she'd wait. All they had to do was let life work its magic and make things happen.

The graduation party went on inside. They could hear Koko sharing a joke, Mochu's laughter echoing through, compliments given to Anna's cooking, the undeniable clicks of Hotaru's camera and Sumire talking loudly above everyone else's voices, mentioning something about her recent encounter with a foreign star. They could hear so many things drifting with the wind and the music, so many joys in it, so many pleasantries, so many memories over-flowing from their minds, just as the unsaid words lingered between the two of them.

There were so many things she wanted to tell him. She wanted him not to go, to stay with her until old age, never leaving. She wanted to lie next to him on the bed to warm up the cold days, to spend the afternoon reading his pathetic comic books she couldn't figure out. She wanted it to be just them.

"Where are you going?"

He thought about it for a second. Indeed, where was this trip holding and heading off to? "I'd go for my father first, to make sure where he is, and then I'm taking Aoi and stay with them."

She didn't want to make him do something he wasn't up to, but the question was intolerable, so she rose, "When am I going to see them?"

It wasn't a promise at all. It was a fact, something they both knew would happen eventually, just not now, nor tomorrow, or the week after, or even two months from tonight. "Soon," he answered.

"Is it going to be pretty tearful? What you're doing?"

"I suppose."

He wasn't even looking at her when her figure started stirring in the darkness, when suddenly, the mixture of her perfume and shampoo literally went around him. He felt her stuffing her handkerchief on the breast pocket of his shirt. He held her hand ever so lightly before they both moved them down at the same time.

"Are you going now?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle whispering behind him.

"The sooner I go," he started, but was immediately halted by Mikan,

"The sooner I can celebrate your arrival."

He turned around and saw her looking up at him with no tears but just a sad smile. A smile that wasn't sad because he was going off; it was something that spoke another, something only they knew or can understand, something not even their friends since their eleven-year-old years could ever guess. Lightly, she touched his cheek, as if memorizing every curve, smoothness, its roughness to perfection. It would be a long time before she can finally feel him against her chest, around her arms, like a child being cradles.

She didn't know how long it was, but the warmth stayed when he took her hands and carefully pushed it back. She could vaguely see him anymore, but even from afar, she knew she'd recognize his silhouette. It was the first she memorized about him.

"It's going to be a long trip," she whispered.

He chuckled. "Then I better start walking."

Mikan went to reach for his hand for one last time, but fast and a tad conniving he was, Natsume bounded from the balcony and neatly landed on his feet on the grounds, as quick and quiet as a black cat. She watched his shadow getting farther with each step, and couldn't help it, she took out the phones Hotaru Imai issued them herself and dialed the number she learned by heart.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They found their eyes in the dark; Natsume stood near the open gates, one hand on his jeans pocket, one on the phone similar to hers. Her white satin handkerchief gleamed against the light of the lamppost.

Her eyes were glistening but no tears fell. She whispered, "I'm going to miss you."

The wind carried her words to him, as if even without the use of the phone, just as the unsaid well-wishes of their friends from inside the rooms.

"I know."

It was going to be dangerous, she knew. The Academy isn't a vile set of people but they are indeed shrewd, and Natsume was one of their bests. One last mission wouldn't hurt for their stand— one last mission that would cause him maybe his life.

He knew that but he didn't tell her.

Deep inside, she knew, too.

But there was something they didn't know about Natsume and Mikan. They were quite a pair. They knew what was ahead of them even before it was foretold. They knew without saying the words out loud, as if a psychic bond links one's thoughts to the other.

The light from the lamppost flickered and died. The wind picked up, and just before his figure vanished and completely blended with the night sky, rose petals flew to her direction. It was no doubt who it was from. It was the color of his eyes.

The unspoken assurance was sent to her, just as her words and the wishing of luck got to him.

He was going to be alright.

**- THE END -**

_(not really)_

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

_May Madness _is made by GAFFN writers Romantically Loveless, My Hopeless Romantic, Indigograpefruit and Heartbroken Confession as a challenge to all GA supporters to write away to their hearts' contents. I, too, have observed that the fandom has been very slow lately (we all caught the sickness, you're not alone) and so, to brighten up ourselves just like those good days, this May, everyone is encouraged to restore the fandom as before, as the creators put it, "_a thriving mess of awesome stories with the great characters from Gakuen Alice twisted in a way that is unique to you, the different writers of FFN. Emphasis on the 'unique to you' part. We'd rather not be blamed for causing a riot of petty writers, etc etc, so bring your A-game and participate for the sake of the GA fandom and we'll join you."_

So, what are you waiting for, reading my random story? There are lots of ideas out there waiting to be caught, go get your pretty little net and snatch 'em up! :)

**- 05/11/11 ; 1:48 AM**


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